With Ribbons
by seilleanmor
Summary: Semi-crack, set early season 6. For the ever lovely freddiefraggles on tumblr.


For freddiefraggles on tumblr, who asked for hats. I don't know that this is exactly what you imagined, but I hope you like it anyway.

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On the top of the Crumpetty Tree

The Quangle Wangle sat,

But his face you could not see,

On account of his Beaver Hat.

For his Hat was a hundred and two feet wide,

With ribbons and bibbons on every side

And bells, and buttons, and loops, and lace,

So that nobody ever could see the face

Of the Quangle Wangle Quee.

_**The Quangle Wangle's Hat**_**, Edward Lear**

* * *

"_Wow_."

Kate flushes and dips her chin, smoothing her hands down the skirt of her dress. It's tight, following the curves of her frame so closely that she can see Castle fighting not to take it off of her and worship the soft of her skin with his mouth instead.

"You like it?" She tosses over her shoulder, moving back through to the bathroom to finish her makeup. His groan sends ripples of awareness up her spine and she battles back a shudder, meeting his gaze in the mirror.

His eyes are an oncoming storm, when he comes for her she has to brace herself against the counter to weather the force of him. "You look amazing."

She slides her hands up his lapels and laces her fingers at his neck, offering him a tender smile. The way he looks at her aches, sometimes, with his fierce devotion. There were doubts, at the beginning, but now she can see it written in every crease of his skin.

How she's his truth, his first and last.

"You're not so bad yourself, you know." Kate offers, arching her neck to kiss his chin. He shaved this morning and he's still smooth with it, the precipice of his jaw blurred without the scattering of stubble.

"You're sure about this?"

Honestly? No. She's not sure at all. But Richard Castle the novelist has to make connections, has to attend these events and appear thankful for the host's hospitality, even if he'd rather stay curled up in bed with Kate.

So, a compromise. Yes, he'll go to the event. If he can bring Kate. And of course, Paula had been delighted at that. Any excuse for Castle to show off his muse.

That's unkind. And really, not at all what this is. She knows. It stems from years of loneliness, attending these things with women who are only with him to further their careers.

He asked, and she said yes. And it was easy; a way to make him happy that costs her nothing.

"I'm sure. It'll be fun, right?"

Castle lifts a shoulder and sets his other hand at her waist, nudging her hips to meet his. "I hope so. I know it's not really your sort of thing."

"Hey." Kate cups his cheek until he meets her eyes, so much of that shy little boy there that her heart breaks for him. "It's okay. I'm sure it'll be great."

"Right. Yeah. But Kate?"

She slides her hands into his back pockets and squeezes, smirking when he groans and drops his head to her collarbone. "Yeah?"

"Are you going as my partner, or-" He grits his teeth, sighing at himself.

It's sort of adorable, how mussed and shy he can get when he wants to ask the difficult things. Even if it does worry her that even now, he's scared she'll run.

"Or?"

"As my fiancée?" One side of his mouth lifts in that beautiful half-grin he gets every time he says the word. Like he still can't believe she said yes.

And sure, it took a summer of hard graft and working to fix them before he asked again, and she was able to smile and kiss him and let him slide the ring past her knuckle.

But it's good. They're happy, and stronger now than they've ever been.

"Which do _you_ want?" Kate raises an eyebrow at him. He clutches at her shoulders and hauls her up against his chest, slipping down to cradle her spine and keep her close.

"I want you as my fiancée. Every day. Until the day when you're my wife." His mouth opens against hers, swallowing her gasp.

Alright. Okay. "Yeah. I'll go as your fiancée."

"Thank you." He breathes, kissing her harder. It's thick with gratitude, the taste of him a little sweeter for it.

Kate laces her arms over his shoulders, her face opening into a soft smile she can never quite seem to help around him. He darts in to kiss her again and then steps back, keeping both her hands in his.

"Are you sure you're okay with wearing a hat?"

She can't help but roll her eyes at that, coming forward to let her body list into his. He's warm and solid and here, the cove of him so inviting. "How many times are we going to have this talk? It's high tea at The Lowell with your publishing circle. A hat is necessary."

Beckett even went so far as to call Paula and ask her about the dress code, finding herself at a loss. There's still some shame there, that whole conversation just seriously uncomfortable, but she doesn't want to embarrass Castle. She has to get this right.

"You know, Kate, you could go in dress pants and a turtleneck and you'd still be the most graceful, beautiful woman in the room."

He says it with such conviction that she can't help but believe him, her cheeks flushed with it. "Thank you. I don't mind making the effort, though."

It's actually sort of. . .fun. Getting dressed up. Mostly because of the look on Castle's face, but even so.

The hat, though. She's still not sure about it. It's not really a hat at all, more of a fascinator, and she feels utterly ridiculous in it.

Kate moves through to the closet and unpacks the hat from the box it came in, feeling Castle's gaze hot on her back. She slides the band on, turning to face him and huffing a sigh.

"It's stupid, huh?"

He gapes at her, his face slack with surprise, and then he takes a sucking breath and goes for her, cupping her face in his palms and leaning in to kiss her.

Fierce and intense and bruising, his hands coasting down to clutch at her hips as his tongue clatters over the ridge of her teeth. "You look beautiful."

"It's just a hat." She laughs, dipping her head. Seriously?

Suddenly vehement, Castle shakes his head. "It's not just a hat. It's you, willing to do this for me."

"I'm your partner." Kate lifts a shoulder in a half-shrug so shadow pools in her clavicle, Castle's fingers tripping up to taste.

Really, that's it. She's his partner, in everything. He'd give his life for her.

She can wear a damn hat.

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**A/N: I'm not entirely sure what this is. I'm just trying to clear the backlog of half-written things in my docs folder. Don't take it seriously.**

**Twitter: **seilleanmor

**Tumblr:** katiehoughton


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